Psyche
by shatteredfire
Summary: "...we're in the middle of nowhere, hiding a psychopath." -If only that had been the worst of it. AU/horror.
1. Prologue: Introductions

**prologue: introductions**

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><p>The low rumble of the vehicle's motor was the only sound as the car tore up the driveway, leaving a swirl of golden leaves in its wake. As it wove its way through the winding forest road- no, path, <em>road<em> was too grand a word for it- I leaned my head against the glass of the window. "Xigbar, please drive more carefully."

"We're already here, geezer," he replied, coasting the car to a stop in front of the house. I rolled my eyes, not taking the opportunity to point out that his moniker for me was utterly unsuitable, seeing as I was younger than he was. Instead, I simply unbuckled my seat belt and escaped the car before he felt the need to drive at unreasonable speeds for any longer.

My other companions followed suit, exiting the vehicle and stretching. It had been a long trip out here, but I was satisfied with the results.

"You sure know how to pick 'em," Xigbar muttered, leaning against the hood of the car. "Could you find a more frou-frou place?"

"Are you kidding, Xiggy?" The blond boy to my right was practically bouncing with excitement. "This is the kind of place with _ghosts_. And hidden passages. And-"

"Demyx," I said, still exhausted from his unending excitement during the drive. "Could you relax for _just_ a minute?"

Xigbar chuckled. "Come on, help me with the geezer's stuff. He brought practically his entire lab." The two of them circled the car, and began to unload the mélange of boxes and suitcase we had brought. After observing them for a moment, I turned to my last companion.

"You're quiet, Zexion."

The slate-haired boy looks at me with a tiny amount of annoyance in his eyes. "And what do you expect me to be noisy about?"

I shrugged. "Salient point. But you shouldn't be so sullen about it."

Zexion glared at me. "Vexen, we're in the middle of nowhere, hiding a psychopath. There's nothing good in this entire situation." His voice was hushed, half-hidden under one of Xigbar's raunchy jokes.

"I know," I agreed. "But try and deal with it. We'll be able to do a good deal of research out here, away from all of the nonsense of the city."

He only shook his head in reply. I sighed, turning to face the house. It _was_ fairly fanciful, average for its era of architecture, painted a creamy shade that made it shine amongst the red- and gold-leafed trees. It was a beautiful picture.

_Speaking of which…_

I motioned for Zexion to follow me, starting toward the house. "I have to ask you… this house has both a groundskeeper and a housekeeper. Don't mention anything about _why_ we're here to them, alright?"

"I'm not an idiot," he replied, brushing past me to make his way up the steps. In front of him, the door to the house opened. I raised an eyebrow, but relaxed when the dim light of the foyer revealed the silhouette of a slim girl, who I took to be the housekeeper.

Zexion paused, glancing back at me. I stepped up next to him, fixing my gaze on the girl. She immediately looked at the floor, and mumbled, "Would you be Vexen Ackerman, sir?"

"I am," I replied. "And you are…?"

"Xion, sir, the housekeeper."

She was still staring at the ground as Xigbar struggled up to join us. "What did you pack, geezer? These cases weight a ton…" He glanced at Xion. "Who's that?"

I rolled my eyes. "She had just finished saying that she was the housekeeper, Xigbar. _Try_ to keep up, would you? And be careful with that. It's fragile." I turned back to Xion, and shrugged with a bit of remorse. "As I was going to say, I am Vexen. This is Zexion Oublié" –I gestured to him- "and Xigbar Hohei. The blond over there" –I waved generally behind me- "is Demyx Tenir. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Are these the new tenants?" The voice drifted up to the porch from behind me, and I turned to see a man with a shock of pink hair. "I'm Marluxia, the groundskeeper." He held up a hand as I opened my mouth to make another round of introductions. "No, I heard who everyone was the first time. If you have any concerns about the grounds, bring them to me. I'll be seeing you."

With that, the man strode off, his gardening tools flashing from the bucket he held them in at his side. I raised an eyebrow at his departing back, but turned back to Xion with a faint, and just slightly forced, smile on my face. "Well, would you mind showing us the house?"

She nodded, and turned around, leading us into the depths of the foyer. Despite its shadowed appearance from the outside, it proved to be quite well-lit on the inside, with a sweeping staircase as its central feature. Xion paused, turning to face me. "What would you like to see, sir?"

"Somewhere I can dump this crap," Xigbar muttered from the back, still struggling with what I noted to be the heaviest of the cases I had bought. "_Please_ don't say it's upstairs."

"There's a study here, yes?" I asked, shooting him an annoyed glance. "That would do."

"Of course, sir." She bobbed her head, and slipped past me, opening one of the heavy-looking wooden doors by the stairs. "It's just this way."

The house was quite large, filled with rooms covered in dark wallpaper with wide windows. Xigbar grumbled throughout our entire trip through the house, heaving the box along. Eventually, Xion paused in front of a door, and then swung it open. The study was closer to my laboratory than any study I'd ever seen in size, but I wasn't complaining. I gestured to a table for Xigbar to place down his box, which he did with another round of muttering.

"You can bring the rest of it in here," I told him, letting a note of superiority slip into my tone. "Xion, the rest of the house, if you would?"

_Later –_

"It's really happening, isn't it?"

He turned to look at where she was sitting on the railing of the porch, one foot gracefully balanced against the posts. "Everything says that it _would_ be now."

Xion sighed, and closed her eyes. "It's all just… oh, I feel terrible for them."

Marluxia smiled, just slightly. "They brought it on themselves. Don't feel bad."

She looked up at the sky, where the moon was just cresting over the horizon. "None of this was supposed to happen."

"It _did_, though." He bent back toward his gardening, yanking a weed out of the ground with more force than was strictly necessary. "We have to live with what happened in the past. And with everything else that it's brought us."

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><p><strong>AN:** Hello, and welcome to my latest project! I'm going for more of a horror angle this time, so the story will be revealed slowly... just stick with it, and all of the little hints in this chapter will eventually lead to something. (I'm also unused to writing horror, so forgive me if it's not very scary...)

There are a couple of subtle references in this story, mostly in the characters' last names. Zexion has the same last name as he did in a story I wrote previous to this, _Don't Stop Believing_. Vexen's last name is a small salute to a fanfic entitled _Love Never Dies_, which you can read on sora-x-roxas-4ever's deviantART. (actually, that story was one of my inspirations for this. so, if you note similarities between the two, that would be why... the plots will be very, very different, I promise.)

And... I think that's about it! ^-^ There's a few more things I'd like to explain about this story, but you'll have to wait until more of the plot appears.

Until next time,

-Frae


	2. Chapter One: Misplaced

**chapter one: misplaced**

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><p><em>Carefully, carefully…<em> I balanced the crucible over the tiny flame I had created, the tongs shaking slightly from the tightness of my grip. _Come on, work this time…_

"Um… Mr. Ackerman?"

I almost jumped, focused as I was on the experiment, but kept my hand steady. "Yes, come in, Xion. What is it?"

"I was just… it's almost dinner, sir."

"Thank you, Xion." I shifted the crucible from the flame to the wire rack I had set up. _That should do it…_ Behind me, I heard the tiniest scuffle of her feet as she left the room. Shrugging, I removed the lid from the tiny ceramic pot, intent on finishing the experiment before any other interruptions wandered in.

.

"I know it was here…" he muttered, examining the bookshelves. "I saw it yesterday. You don't come across texts like that every day…"

"What are you looking for, sir?"

He glanced sideways, and saw the silhouette of a girl nearby. "Oh, Xion, good. Have you seen _Animus Interfectorem_? I know it was around here yesterday…"

"It's here." She extended her hand, offering him the leather-bound volume. "But… begging your pardon, sir, I'm not Xion."

Taking the book, he began to leaf through it as the second part of her statement registered in his mind. Zexion looked up. "What did you say-?"

The figure was gone.

.

I was notating down the last bits of the experiment when Zexion came in, clearly shaken. That made me pause in my meandering thoughts- it took quite a bit to make someone like him flinch. "Something wrong?"

"Is there anyone here, apart from us, Marluxia, and Xion?"

My pen twitched, spraying a few drops of stray ink across the page. "Not to my awareness, no."

He sat down next to me, placing a book on the table. I nudged it aside, keeping it clear of the chemicals I had been mixing. "I met someone in the library claiming to be a seventh person."

"Maybe it was Xion? You know, playing a prank? Pulling your leg?" I resumed writing, trying to both pay attention to my conversation and to fix the last details of the experiment in my mind.

Zexion snorted. "Hardly. That's completely out of character for someone like her."

"You've only known her for three days." I scrawled down a final sentence, and then capped my pen.

He stretched out a hand, yanking me around to face him. His eyes hid just the slightest gleam of anger. "Vexen, I am a _psychologist_. I'm an excellent judge of character. Xion would _not_ do that. It countermands everything that she is and has trained to be."

"Then who do you propose it is? One of Demyx's ghosts?" I glared at him. "We all know that those are just in his head. Remnants of-"

Shaking his head somewhat violently, Zexion snapped, "I don't know who it was, but I'm not Demyx. That person was real, which implies that there is somehow a seventh person here. She could be anyone; more importantly, she could set off a chain of events that we would _both_ never see come to pass."

Under the intensity of his glare, I crumpled just a tiny bit. "We'll ask Marluxia about it. He's the groundskeeper; part of his duties should be to keep a record of those who leave and enter the grounds."

"Fine." Zexion drew back abruptly, turning to his book. "Look at what I found, though. It's a fairly rare, old text. Do you think it could be of any help to us?"

I looked at the cover, reading the words inscribed there with a strange twist of foreboding. "_Animus Interfectorem... _'The Mind of a Murderer'? Where did you find this?"

"The library."

"Why on earth would this be there?" I picked it up, flipping through the first few pages. "It's an awful book, not easy reading at all. An intensive look into the psyche of a serial killer who lived centuries ago…"

"I'm aware of its content, Vexen." Zexion repossessed the book. "As to why it's here… I've no idea. You can inquire into the matter all you like. I more care about how we can use it in our current situation."

"I don't see how we can." I flipped to a new page in my notebook, and started scrawling down a reminder to look at the book when I had more time. "Everything in our situation is _utterly_ unlike the one described there."

Zexion hummed slightly, sifting through the pages. "If you think so. But, Vexen-"

A tiny cough interrupted him, and we both turned to see Xion standing in the doorway. "Sirs, it's dinner."

"Thank you, Xion," I said, casting a sideways glance at Zexion. We stood, and followed her toward the dining room.

Traditionally, the servants of a house wouldn't dine with the owners, but Demyx had asked that they did. Xion, who seemed particularly traditional in her mannerisms, was uncomfortable seated at the table with us, but Marluxia was at ease, talking with us and laughing at Xigbar's jokes. I joined Xion in discomfort for the night, staring at my plate.

"Soup again?" Demyx was saying when I sat down. "Ugh. I want something good… like a nice, juicy _steak_. What'da ya think, Xiggy? Steaks for all?"

The man in question poked the surface of his own dinner with a spoon. "It'd be a nice change from drinking my dinner, to be sure. We have any bread in this joint?"

"I'll get some, sir," Xion volunteered, standing up quickly. Under the table, Zexion kicked me. I jumped, fixing my gaze on Xigbar. "Xigbar, go help her. You wanted the bread, after all."

Xigbar glared at me, and then shrugged. "C'mon, Dem. Let's all just go. 'Sides, we could find better goodies in the kitchen on our raid."

"Sure," Demyx agreed, and then the three of them trooped off.

Marluxia seemed unconcerned by the entire event, delicately sipping at his soup. "That was masterfully done."

"What do you mean?" I snapped, unnerved by his comment. "They just wanted bread. It's unfair to make Xion do all of the work."

"I mean, by asking Xigbar to join her, you cleared the room for a conversation. You've only got a few minutes, what do you want?"

I coughed, trying to order my thoughts. "It's only a small matter, really… earlier today, Zexion met a girl in the library who claimed to be none of the six of us. Is there a seventh person on the grounds?"

With the tiniest of smiles, Marluxia replied, "We're the only people on the grounds, I can assure you. You could ask Xion if it was her. Maybe you misunderstood what she said-"

Zexion looked up. "She said directly that she wasn't Xion. It's difficult to misunderstand. What is the likelihood of someone being on the grounds that you're unaware of?"

"It's possible," Marluxia conceded, toying with his water glass. "It is a big place, after all. People can just slip in and out. Actually reaching the house, for another matter, is much more difficult to do without my awareness of it. But, is it impossible? Not at all."

I shook my head in annoyance. "Is there any way to test and see if someone _has_ entered the house without your awareness?"

Marluxia snickered. "You talk like a scientist. Yes, we could _test_ it, simply by searching for your mystery person. However, she might already be gone by now. Did you take that into account?"

"I did." I tapped my finger on the edge of the table, considering. "We'll search nonetheless. I only care that she is no longer here."

"Should we involve the rest?" Zexion asked. "We could just tell them it's a game, if you don't want them directly aware of the situation."

"That would work," I agreed. "Think of a likely set of rules, would you? I'll break down the grounds systematically between us, and we can start looking after-" I broke off mid-sentence, hearing a clatter that announced the return of the others. I shrugged at Zexion, and returned to eating my soup. It had grown cold.

"Lookit what we found, Vex!" Demyx shoved something under my face, which I nudged away to get a better view of. "Salsa! Won't that make this soup great?"

"Demyx," I said, watching as he bounced back to his seat, "salsa tends to have a very spicy flavor, while this soup has more of an Italian taste to it, which would make-" I stopped talking, mostly because he was ignoring me and spooning salsa into his soup nonetheless. I sighed.

"Anyway," Xigbar said, taking more a practical route and eating his soup with bread, "what did you do today, Vex? We didn't see you anywhere."

"I was conducting an important experiment as to the dissolution of-"

"Yeah, yeah, experimenting was enough of a description for me." Xigbar took a bite of his bread. "We were thinking, me and Dem, that we should go exploring."

Zexion cast me a quick glance. I nodded, just slightly. "We could do that after dinner," Zexion said.

Xigbar raised an eyebrow. "What, you intellects want to stick your noses into the real world? Someone punch me, I think I'm dreaming." I caught out of the corner of my eye Zexion's usual squirm to such statements as he resisted pointing out that pain is the _worst_ test for dreaming. Instead, he nodded, and said, "Vexen and I thought it would be a good idea."

"Then we'll all go exploring together!" Demyx grinned, and turned to Xion and Marluxia. "Xi? Marles? You want to come with us?"

"Sir, I don't think-" Marluxia cut Xion off. "We'd love to." She gave him a reproachful, somewhat helpless glare, and sagged down into her chair. I gave her a tiny smile of sympathy, and then turned to Xigbar and Demyx. "Where would you two like to go?"

"I was thinkin' the attic, or maybe the basement…" Xigbar tapped his chin with a crust of bread, thoughtfully. "Opinions, Dem?"

"Both?"

"Then you can have those two areas. Marluxia, you can show me around the grounds. Xion and Zexion, you can look at the rest of the house, if you would."

Zexion nodded. Xion just stared at her plate.

"That's not _together_, Vex," Demyx protested, poking his salsa-soup mixture. "That's all systematic and science-y. No fun at _all_."

I took a piece of Xigbar's bread, and tore it in half. "You're still going to get to go exploring with Xigbar, aren't you?"

"I want to go with Xi," he said, looking put-out. "She's always too busy to hang."

Xion glanced sideways at him, and then quickly returned her gaze to her plate. "I apologize, sir."

"_Demyx_," he corrected her, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, me and Xi will go exploring in the attic and the basement. Xiggy can team up with Zex or something."

Xigbar glanced at me, and I shrugged, somewhat lost as to what to do. "If you'd like, Demyx."

"Then it's settled," he said happily, and took another bite of his soup.

.

We began the search as soon as the table was cleared and the dishes moved to the kitchen for washing at a later point. Marluxia and I armed ourselves with flashlights before heading out into the fast-growing darkness.

The pink-haired man kicked at a pinecone as we walked, the beam of his flashlight playing across the gravel path that wound off into the depths of the grounds. "We're not going to find anyone in the dark, Vexen. What exactly goes on in that little head of yours?"

I shrugged. "We're hardly needed to search the house. I need to get a better grasp on where exactly I am. We'll just wander for a bit. You can show me anything that's particularly important around here."

"Fine." Marluxia took the lead. "We'll start with the orchards. Anything else on your mind?"

Uncomfortable with how good he was proving at reading me, I stepped up beside him. "I have a few questions for you, as it were."

He snickered. "I'll trade you for them. An answer for an answer. Fair?"

"Fair." I sighed, and considered my first question. "How do you predict what I'm trying to do?"

"Intuition," he replied instantly. "Also, I'm manipulative. I take notes." I grimaced, and took my own mental note to stay clear of any mind games he tried to play with me. "My turn… why are all of you out here, in the middle of nowhere?"

My answer was slower in the coming as I considered my words. "We are hiding from the media." I let a second pass, and then asked my next question. "Why is _Animus Interfectorem _in the library?"

"It was part of the original collection. My question. Hm… _why_ are you hiding out here?"

Annoyed, I glanced away from him, trying to hide that I didn't want to give up that particular answer. "An incident involving one of us got out of hand. We were forced to leave until such time as it dies down." I took a breath, and then asked, "Are you aware of the circumstances under which _Animus Interfectorem _became a part of the collection?"

"I am." Marluxia shook his head at me as I opened my mouth to demand the circumstances. "That was your question, Vexen. Now, as for mine… are Xion and I in danger, because of your 'situation'?"

I shone my flashlight into the shadows at the edge of the path. "There's… always that possibility. The eventuality is slim, though." The beam from my flashlight fell on the corner of a building, tucked away in a copse of trees. I stepped off the path, the hem of my pants instantly become soaked by the dew on the grass.

"Vexen, where are you going?" Marluxia asked. I waved him off, approaching the crumbling structure. As I drew closer, the beam highlighted more of its features. It was a half-destroyed building, built reminiscent of ancient architecture. On the other side of it…

There were three rows of stones that I quickly identified to be moss-covered gravestones. I scraped off one of the gravestones, my eyes glancing only briefly over the name, Arlene Corus. Slowly, I looked up at Marluxia, who was shining his flashlight just to my left. _A graveyard? But…_ "Why is this here?"

Marluxia flashed me a grin that was all teeth and no humor. "Sorry, Vexen. I'm all out of questions, so you'll have to find that answer yourself."

.

When we returned to the house, Zexion was waiting for us, leaning against the railing of the porch. I raised an eyebrow as a question to him, and he shook his head in a near-imperceptible reply. I nodded, just slightly, relieved. Whoever the girl had been, I was content to let the mystery sit. As long as she was gone, I didn't care.


	3. Chapter 2: Histories

**chapter two: histories**

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><p>His eyes traced the raindrops as they slid down the pane of glass, each leaving behind tiny pieces of itself. In the periphery of his vision, he could see Zexion as he sorted through the pages of notes he had been keeping. He had read them, sometimes. They were all immaculate, written in a tiny, neat hand that only Zexion could ever manage. His own letters were loopy, sloppy, spilling out across the page in unplanned rows.<p>

"Demyx?"

He slid his gaze from the window to his companion, who had put down the notebook. After silence stretched between them for a lengthy moment, Zexion sighed. "I need you to talk to me."

"About what?" Demyx turned, the faintest brush of a smile his only expression. "You expanding that library of notes you have there? Am I really that interesting to you?"

Zexion picked up a pen, impassive. "How are you today? How do you _feel_?"

"I'm fine." His eyes were wide, guileless. "I feel… well, a bit bored. How long do we have to stay out here?"

"Until such time as Xemnas authorizes us to return. What are you thinking about?"

Demyx took a moment to ponder the question, and then shrugged. "I was wondering, what do you think happens to people when they die?"

"It's anyone's guess." Zexion folded his hands, his gaze focusing on them. "There more than a few philosophers who have devoted their life to finding just that answer… religions devote themselves to it, scientists ponder it. No one knows, but we are all captivated by the line between finite life and infinite existence."

Demyx scowled, and an edge of reproach entered his voice. "I wasn't asking for what _other_ people thought. I was asking for _your_ opinion."

With a tiny frown marring his blank expression, Zexion replied, "I have no particular opinion on the matter. There is no proof to any given theory."

"You're too calculating about everything." Demyx twisted his head, staring out at the rain-soaked world. "I wonder sometimes… do people really go _anywhere_ when they die? What if they're still here, just out of sight? Did you ever think about that?" He tucked his hand under his chin, letting his smile fade. "It would be nice if they did."

"Nice?"

"Yeah." Demyx's face twisted back into a horrible mockery of a smile. "Then, I wouldn't feel so guilty all of the time. Do you know how he is?"

Zexion coughed. "The reports show he still hasn't woken up."

"Shame." His voice was a whisper. "I did like him."

They sat in silence for a long moment before Demyx stood, stretching languidly. He gave his companion a smile, but it was far from his usual cheerful grin. Unflinchingly, Zexion met his gaze, eyes as cold as ice. After a long moment, Demyx turned away, wandering from the room.

Slumping in his chair, Zexion buried his head in his hands, wondering how _exactly_ everything had slipped away from him.

.

I had spent the morning in my lab, writing a report to Xemnas. He had demanded constant updates on my work, as would be necessary to the continuation in my branch's work, but it had thus far been typing my copious notes on the experiment into an email. By the time Xion had brought me lunch, I was at loose ends.

My free state did not persist for long. I was halfway through eating my sandwich when Zexion walked in, dragging the copy of _Animus Interfectorem_ with him. He settled down on the far end of the lab bench, putting down the book on the chrome surface of it. He turned to me, a tiny frown on his face.

"Bad morning?" I asked, taking another bite. Zexion replied with the most sarcastic glare known to man, and then sighed, knotting his hands into his hair. He flipped open the book, and waved me over. Abandoning my lunch, I complied.

"Look at this." Zexion's finger traced a line of text, which he began to read. "_Regrettably, I am no psychologist. I can only write in conjecture, with none of the background necessary to form true hypothesizes on the matters at hand. Hopefully, someone more qualified than I will find this book someday, and make sense of the tragedy that lies before us._" He looked up at me, his expression showing that he expected me to glean something from what he had said.

I was at a loss. "What conclusion do you expect me to reach from that?"

Zexion huffed in annoyance. "_Animus Interfectorem_ is included in many psychological book lists as a dissertation on a psychopath's mind. This introductory paragraph… it _directly_ contradicts that fact. Why?"

Raising my hands, I turned back to my sandwich. "I have not the faintest of ideas, Zexion. My apologies. The lab is yours, if you'd like to read here, though. I'm going for a walk." I snatched up a notebook as I left the room, leaving Zexion hunched over his book.

I paused on the veranda for a moment, glancing across the sun-washed grounds. Despite the prolific sunshine, there was a pronounced chill in the air. The thick wool of the sweater I had shrugged into this morning protected me from all but the faintest edge of it, so I started down the gravel path in front of me with only the slightest of hesitations.

Around me, the leaves were all turning in a blaze of crimson and gold. Closeted as I had been in my lab, I had missed noticing the beauty of the place. Now, with it all around me, I couldn't stop to appreciate it as I hurried on my quest.

I hadn't gotten a free moment since the incident earlier in the week, but the graveyard I had found was weighing heavily on my mind. The realtor who had recommended the house had mentioned nothing of a private graveyard; that meant that even _she_ was unaware of its existence. Marluxia's reply had also bothered me. As manipulative as he claimed to be, there was no obvious reason to continue concealing its existence after it had been discovered.

In the end, I had reached the only conclusion possible: I would have to find the answers myself. Why the graveyard was there, and why it was a secret.

The tiny copse of trees that hid its location was less than ten minutes from the house. I flipped open my notebook, and began ripping away moss from the names, copying down the names and the dates of death. There were thirteen in all, spread into three rows of four each, and a somewhat time-ravaged mausoleum at the head.

It was slow work, gathering the information I needed. Some of the gravestones had words or letters worn away, or they had sunken into the ground and needed to be partially dug out. The sky was starting to be tinged with just the faintest streaks of lavender when I finished. Only three of the graves had complete information, but the dates were relatively close- some were even on the same day. With what I had, it was likely that I would find something.

The list bothered me, though, as I scanned it. All of the names sounded like I had heard them somewhere before, like I _should_ recognize them. I bit my lip, trying to work it through. Finally, I gave it up for an exercise in futility, and turned to go back to the house. As I started toward the path, a ray of reddish-gold light fell onto a rock that was a _bit_ too white to be natural.

I veered toward it, wondering if it was a fourteenth grave- and why it would be apart from the others if it was. Brushing aside the branches that blocked me from it, I knelt down next to what _was,_ in fact, a final headstone.

_Lea Coendium_, I read, and then scraped away the lichen that was crawling up the stone. Like many of the others, there were only a few mismatched numbers for the date of birth, but I could make out enough of the date death to tell that it had been several months prior to the others.

Biting my lip, I noted it down beneath the rest, and underlined it. Whatever had caused all of the bodies to accumulate into this hidden graveyard, I had a notion that the circumstances of Lea's death would prove most enlightening.

.

When I returned to my laboratory, Zexion was gone, though he had left _Animus Interfectorem _open on the table, and what appeared to be one of my notebooks covered in his meticulous handwriting. I tossed my own notes toward a table, hoping they would land there. Unfortunately, they missed by several feet, fluttering to the floor in a flurry of lined pages. I sighed, and retrieved them, smoothing the pages before I put them down.

Crossing the laboratory again, I sat in front of the notebook, flipping backward through several pages to reach the beginning. The first few lines of cramped text were notes about the book's introduction; he had several theories as to the identity of the author. Skimming past them, I started reading about the book itself.

Zexion's handwriting was nigh-impossible to decipher when he began to write quickly; a few lines in, I ran into that exact problem as the tiny letters began to blur together into sentences only he could decode. Turning to the book, I flipped through the aged pages, looking for a likely starting point.

A few pages into my search, I paused, smoothing down the paper to read it better. The detail that registered in my mind first was that the book was handwritten, as if it had been a journal. In fact- I flipped the book shut, staring at the title page. _Animus Interfectorem_ had been inked in by hand, if I was any judge- though I was hardly a handwriting expert. The letters were faded though, half-absorbed into the cloth cover. The book had been titled by the author, long ago. This wasn't just a copy of _Animus_- for some reason beyond my knowledge, the _original_ copy of _Animus Interfectorem _had been part of the collection in this library when its original owners had died.

I raked my hand through my hair, and opened the book again. At this rate, I wouldn't manage to reason out one bizarre incident before ten more cropped up. Still, I continued reading the worn pages, squinting at the faded text. The few sentences that stood out to me read like a story rather than a psychological text. Frowning, I continued reading, turning the page. After another half-page of skimming, I went to retrieve my own notes.

A few pages of cross-referencing later, I had found five of the names on my list, four of which had died within several days of each other. I flipped to the beginning of the book, to where the neatly-written title page was located, my fingers shaking as they turned the pages. The last of those names was written there in the same hand- the author of the book, who was the last of that set to die. And the final name-

-well, he was the last to die, judging by the dates on the gravestones.

I closed my eyes, mostly to stop the room from spinning. _There is a logical explanation_, I told myself. _You just need to research the matter, discover patterns in the information..._

"Talking to yourself?"

I twisted around, and saw Zexion standing in the doorway. He was smiling just slightly- sardonically, if I was any judge of expression. Scowling, I turned back to the book. "I didn't realize I was thinking aloud. Excuse me."

Zexion waved off my comment. "It's of no matter. At any rate, it presents a convenient opportunity for me to ask you to what you seek the logical explanation for."

Sighing, I picked up our respective notes, and went to join him at the room's only standard table. As he read my notes, I said, "These are the names written on the gravestones enclosed in a copse of trees at the back of the house."

He reached the conclusion I had at much greater speed. "These names are the same. What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure." I repossessed my notes, skimming down the list again. "I suppose… we need to do some research."

"By all means." Zexion stood, going to retrieve his book. "I'll leave you to it; I, on the other hand, would like to know _what_ exactly became the famous psychological text _Animus Interfectorem_. Because, as uniquely interesting as this copy it, it is _not_ what was published later. And, I would like to know the identity of whoever edited it into its current state."

I stood up, and headed toward the door- I could hear the click of Xion's shoes as she approached to tell us that it was time for dinner. "Do you ever feel," I asked, "like we're missing the most important piece of the puzzle in this?"

Zexion smiled, but it had none of the humor he had possessed earlier. "I've spent the past three years wondering what it is."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hello! Yeah, there's actually an author's note this chapter; surprising, isn't it? Heh. Anyway, this chapter is giving away some of the secrets of the story- especially about Demyx. Yes, he's the psychopath. I just wanted to explain the logic so I don't get beaten by anyone… That would be bad.

Yeah, so the main reasoning for it was this… I knew one of them was going to be psychopathic, but when I started doing research into it, I found out that psychopathy is more than just running around with a big knife and stabbing people. It's actually a pretty complicated condition, and a LOT of the traits fit Demyx very well if you started analyzing his character that way. If you want to do some research into it, by all means, but I'm not going to divulge anymore here, lest it color your view of events in this chapter. Don't worry, Zexion'll get around to defining it a bit more in later chapters.

And on the other hand, Vexen and Zexion are trying to ferret out some of the most important secrets of the story… what will happen? You'll have to wait and find out! Heh-heh.

This story has also expanded its story somewhat, and I'm debating whether to divide it into two parts. Opinions?

Well, this has been fairly lengthy… (mostly because of Demyx, that crazy dude.) I'll leave you on that note, then!

-Frae


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